


Press You to the Pages of My Heart

by poisonivory



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Super Sons (Comics), Superman (Comics)
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:55:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25435759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisonivory/pseuds/poisonivory
Summary: “Do you want to talk about it?” Jon asked.“No,” Damian said, pushed his forehead into the space behind Jon’s ear. “No,” he said again, quieter. “Not...not yet. I just…” His hands slid up and down Jon’s ribs; his hips settled back against Jon’s pelvis and rocked.-After a bad night, Damian needs a particular kind of comfort. Jon is more than happy to provide.
Relationships: Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne
Comments: 22
Kudos: 263





	Press You to the Pages of My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Jon and Damian are somewhere in their twenties here and have been together for a while. (This could easily be read as a sequel to basically any of my other Jon/Damian fics, but doesn't have to be!)
> 
> The title is from "Want You In My Room" by Carly Rae Jepsen because apparently I won't stop until I've used all of her songs for titles.

There was an art to sleeping with super hearing. Jon had had to train himself early on to ignore ninety percent of the sounds around him and only wake up for the ones that meant he was needed: screams or sirens in his city, his own name above a certain decibel level, distress in the voices of the people he loved.

That was why he only half woke up when Damian climbed in through their bedroom window. They tried, but Damian’s work was still mostly nocturnal and Jon literally got his powers from the sun, so there was only so much overlapping they could do. Jon had gotten used to going to bed before Damian got back from patrol. Usually he barely processed Damian sliding into bed except to roll over and drape an arm over Damian’s waist without waking up. At least, that was how Damian usually described it when he woke up in the morning, three hours after Jon did.

But something about the way Damian came in tonight made Jon’s eyes open halfway, made him mumble “Damian?” into the pillow and track him as he moved around the room, shedding the pieces of his costume as he went.

It wasn’t until Damian slid under the sheets that Jon realized that Damian’s heart rate was elevated, much faster than it should be at the end of the night; that his muscles when Jon touched him were rigid and tense; that he was shaking.

“Damian?” he said again, fully awake now. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

Damian crawled on top of him, thighs bracketing Jon’s hips, face tucked into Jon’s neck - seeking comfort he would never admit to needing with the lights on. He let out a shaky breath. “Bad night,” he said, and then, before Jon could panic: “I’m not hurt.”

Jon let his hands sweep over Damian’s body, scanned him with eyes that didn’t need light. It was true: a few bruises and scrapes, but nothing unusual or alarming. He smelled like blood, but not his own. Jon hated that he could tell the difference.

Damian wasn’t hurt. But he was making himself small and clinging and that meant something was _wrong_.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jon asked.

“ _No_ ,” Damian said, pushed his forehead into the space behind Jon’s ear. “No,” he said again, quieter. “Not...not yet. I just…” His hands slid up and down Jon’s ribs; his hips settled back against Jon’s pelvis and rocked.

Which was when Jon realized Damian had stripped completely naked before getting into bed. “You sure?” he asked.

“Come on, hayseed,” Damian whined, and pressed a hot kiss to Jon’s neck. He was already hardening against Jon’s stomach, and worried as he was, Jon was responding. “This isn’t prom night in Hamilton County. Take off the kid gloves.”

“ _You_ were my prom date, and it was here,” Jon reminded him, but he let his hips roll up, let his hands slide down to grab Damian’s ass, a little harder than he normally would. Damian moaned, and the lips against Jon’s neck were replaced with teeth.

They didn’t do this that often. It was messy, and they were neither of them very patient, and Jon was perfectly happy to get Damian’s dick in his mouth every day and twice on Sunday, so it usually didn’t seem worth the hassle. But sometimes, for a special occasion - or when Damian was palpably shaking with the need to get out of his head - well, nothing else would do.

Jon sat up, dragging Damian with him, the covers pooling around Jon’s legs. Damian yanked Jon’s boxers down and settled in Jon’s lap, biting at his mouth and grinding down on his dick so that it took about three times as long for Jon to reach behind him and grab the lube off the nightstand as it normally would.

“Come on,” Damian said again, as Jon fumbled the lube open and slicked his fingers. “Come on, come on, come on…”

“Bossy,” Jon said, reaching around Damian and between his legs. The angle was bad and he hauled Damian higher on his knees, pushed his legs further apart, put him where he wanted him. He found Damian’s hole again and pushed one finger in, faster than he normally would but still careful.

Damian gasped and dug his nails fruitlessly into Jon’s back. “You love it,” he managed, and it was true, the things it did to Jon, Damian haughty and impatient and demanding even as he let Jon manhandle him, even as he rocked down on Jon’s finger because Jon wasn’t going fast enough.

Jon kissed him and swallowed Damian’s moan as he crooked his finger against Damian’s prostate. He could have happily done that all night but Damian was urgent bordering on frantic, hips twitching back and his kisses all teeth, and soon Jon was adding a second finger, pushing his way past the resistance of Damian’s body. Damian hissed in pain and Jon paused, but Damian snapped “Don’t fucking _stop_ ” and so Jon kept going, up to the knuckle, Damian writhing and panting in his lap.

Soon, too soon for Jon and much too slow for Damian, Damian was pushing his hand away, grabbing at the lube himself and wrapping a slick hand around Jon’s dick. Jon groaned but Damian was there and gone and then - fuck - sliding down on Jon’s dick and Jon had to catch Damian’s hips and slow him down, half to keep Damian from hurting himself and half to keep Jon from coming in the next three seconds.

Damian shook in his arms, hot breath against Jon’s collarbone, and then he was riding him, hard and fast enough to chase whatever he’d seen tonight out of his head. Jon moved with him, rocked into the tight velvet heat of him, and let Damian use his body to exorcise his demons.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Damian hissed, shaky, and even that was noteworthy. He was rarely vocal during sex, a few moans and sometimes Jon’s name, but that was okay because Jon made up for it.

“God, you feel so good,” Jon said. He couldn’t find a place to put his hands, wanted to feel Damian everywhere: the tense curve of his back, the lean cords of his thighs as they moved, his unfairly perfect ass. “So hot, Damian. So beautiful, so perfect for me. Love you so much.”

Damian’s only answer was a groan as he moved faster, harder, fucking himself on Jon’s dick. He dug his nails into Jon’s biceps, used him for leverage as he chased his pleasure. Jon slipped a hand between them and Damian tried to pull back and keep going at the same time.

“No,” he said, each breath a ragged gasp. “Not yet. I don’t...not yet.”

“Okay,” Jon said, moving his hands back to the safer territory of Damian’s ass and listened for the grunt of approval that meant they could stay there. “Whatever you need, babe. Anything you need, I’ll give it to you.”

“Just...just…” Damian’s thighs were trembling; Jon could feel the fine quaver running through his body. Damian was all muscle but even he could only keep up a punishing pace like this for so long.

“I got you,” Jon said, kissing Damian’s shoulder, and then he gathered Damian close and snapped his hips up, hard like he knew Damian needed.

“ _Jon_ ,” Damian gasped, clinging to him like a lifeline. Jon cradled him, levitated just enough that he could get onto his knees for better leverage, and then drove up into him, setting a pace that would have been punishing if he hadn’t had superhuman stamina and invulnerable knees, and if Damian hadn’t asked for just this. And he had meant it, what he’d said to Damian; he’d give him anything he needed, the moment he needed it.

Damian braced his forehead on Jon’s shoulder and took it, a little “ah!” hitting Jon’s skin like a kiss with every exhale. “Like that, babe?” Jon asked. “Is that what you need?”

His only answer was Damian groaning low and fumbling between them to get a hand around his dick. He jerked himself off so roughly Jon knew he had to be close - and sure enough, it only took a minute before Damian was clenching around him and spilling over his fist. A second later Jon followed him over the edge, pushed over by Damian’s little shudders through the aftershocks.

When he came back to himself Damian was limp against him, the tension finally gone. Jon kissed him as sweetly as he knew how. “Better?” he asked.

“Don’t patronize me, Kent,” Damian said, but he was sleepy and fucked-out and there was no sting to it.

Jon gently eased himself out of Damian and laid him down. Damian didn’t resist being moved around, which meant he’d really needed this. Jon zipped into the bathroom and returned with a warm, damp washcloth, which he used to clean them both off before tossing it into the sink to be dealt with in the morning.

When he got back into bed, Damian curled into him, and Jon stroked his fingers through the hair at the back of Damian’s head. “Better?” he asked again.

This time Damian sighed. “...Yes,” he admitted.

“You want to tell me about it?”

“Not yet,” Damian said. “In the morning.”

“Okay.” Jon leaned in and kissed him again. Damian’s eyelids were already drooping. “I love you.”

“Mm.” Damian pushed Jon around a little until he’d gotten him into what was apparently the optimal position to cuddle up to. Not that Jon was allowed to call what Damian did “cuddling.” “Go back to sleep.”

Jon closed his eyes and listened to Damian’s breathing even out. A minute later he heard, in a half-asleep voice, “Love you too.”

Jon rubbed his thumb against the back of Damian’s neck until he could tell he was asleep. Whatever Damian had seen tonight, whatever he had had to stop, he’d tell Jon about it in the morning, and they could work through it together. Until Damian was ready to talk, Jon could still be there for whatever else would help him through.

That was more than enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I legit have no idea what Damian had to deal with that night, but considering the various other traumas he's lived through it must have been pretty bad. Good thing Jon's there!
> 
> [Come say hi on tumblr!](https://pluckyredhead.tumblr.com/)


End file.
